


Perception

by Somecallmemichelle



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Comfort, Conversations, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Heroism, Hurt, Pain, Perception, Protective Judy, Reconciliation, Romance, Self-Worth, ambiguous ending, between life and death, hurt nick, under death's gloom, wildehopps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 16:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9615386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somecallmemichelle/pseuds/Somecallmemichelle
Summary: As Nick and his life hang in the balance, and only Juddy Hopps, fellow Zootopia Police Officer, and former best friend, can save his life, they have a heartfelt talk about their relationship with one another, and why they stepped away from one another...Because Nick doesn't seem himself as worthy of a bunny like Judy.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pretty_ok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretty_ok/gifts).



“Yeah” - The silence that follows is a cold, awkward one that neither of them appreciates, not Nick, not her, but that seems inevitable. - “You don’t miss a thing, do you Carrots?”

 

That hurts, the way he says her old nickname, the way that moment he grasps at her humanity, at all their old adventures together, and how they’re not really friends anymore. Because that was then this is now, and that means that stuff changes. That sometimes things don’t work out the way she planned them to. She hasn’t heard him use such derision when using that nickname since...well since before they were friends. And it makes a knot on her throat, a lump threatening to rise and choke out her words.

 

“Maybe…” - Her eyes light up with a speck of hope...just something or other that seems to work by her side. After all, she isn’t a quitter. “Maybe, we can fix this, eh pal?”    
  
She smiles, hopeful, her incisives showing, her hopes and plans for the future of their relationship in that smile, yet Nick shakes his head.   
  
“You know better, there’s no fixing this…”

 

And truly, Judy knows that there is probably not a chance, not after what they’ve been through, that they’ll be able to. That they’ll be able to mend their relationship - and that’s if they survive. Blood sputters from the claw marks at Nick’s chest, those that have ripped of his clothing, and she can barely see the fur underneath all that red. Not that Nick isn’t red already. He’s a fox, after all, but his blood clashes against the fur of his, too bright, too sticky, too… - Well Judy struggles to find a word, when she’s not busy applying pressure to the wound - because that’s what she’s supposed to do according to her training. Of course nobody expected the bunny, Judy Hopps,  to have to do it though, if anything they expected her to be the one on the receiving end.

 

The blood reminds her of tomato pulp, like that time instead of carrots, her family used a part of their crop space for them. And she tries to focus on that image, the tomato pulp, imagine that she isn’t thrusting her hands on the blood of her best friend, or what used to be her former best friend.

 

“Ya know…” Judy can’t afford to look at Nick’s eyes, not while trying to save his stupid life, but she can’t help herself, pressing all or her weight against his body (not that that is much), she can’t falter with the pressure, yet she looks. She could never quite keep her eyes out of him, could she?    
  
Nick’s eyes are starting to gloss over, yet she can see the effort he’s placing at looking at her. Maybe he wants to die with that image on his head? She doesn’t even dare go there, Nick will not, he cannot die. He simply can’t. She doubles her efforts to try and stop the blood flow, to try and keep it all inside of him.

 

She now doesn’t look at him, when she replies to his inquiries, because her focus is not to be broken, she speaks out her mind, like she was always one to do,  all the while keeping herself there.

  
“What is it Nick?” She doesn’t know whether to be annoyed or relieved or what...he placed himself in fr….why did he have to do such a thing, why did he have to play the heroic fox? She could have jumped out of the way, probably, none of them had to get hurt.

  
“I always thought…”  He coughs up, and Judy prays that that’s due to her paws in his chest working, and that he isn’t choking on blood. She prays for that because while she’s no paramedic, she’s doing the best she can, and don’t stories work that way? Doesn’t everyone get a happy ending? Nick has never been a villain, at least in her eyes, even when profiling him.

 

“You thought?” She feels the tears coming out of her eyes and into Nick’s chest. Of course he had to think of something, stereotypes don’t apply, obviously, but he has always been very cunning, very clever, always thinking of something. If anything the fact that he thought was the least surprising aspect about the whole thing.

  
“Thought what?” Because she wants him to keep him talking, she wants him to stay conscious, to be there with her, she can’t let him go, not on her watch. The paperwork she’d have to fill, that’s her justification, but despite that she knows that’s just a cheap excuse. They both know.

 

“I thought I knew how you felt about me…” And there’s no avoiding that short gasp, that seems to escape her muzzle, the way it’s now her chest that threatens to burst. She barely feels her wet paws anymore, though she’s aware she’s pressing, pressing and hoping for the best.

 

He lets out a derisive laugh, one that shouldn’t have been painful to hear, but is, because it’s clear, through all of that, that it pains him to let out that laugh. 

 

“You always were a dumb bunny” And he closes his eyes, and for a moment she thinks those were his last words, and that thought is downright madenning. She presses into his chest with all the strength that remains in her, to force him to apologise, to hear him speak.

 

“Ouch”  He says. - “Not dead, not dead yet” - She slowly lowers the pressure, making sure to keep his stained fur in her paws.

 

“...it’s just, you could do so much better than me” - She pauses for a moment, shocked by what she is hearing. 

 

“You could!”  He says to her shocked eyes. 

 

“Why would you ever pick me?”

 

Judy forces down the words that want to come out. She forces down everything that is coming to her. With an ease of calm, one that’s practiced and not at all how she feels, she replies.

 

“Maybe I wanted the best.”   
  
“Not me, then”

 

Sentences are coming shorter, harder to reach. If help doesn’t come quickly...Judy can’t even think.

 

“Of course it’s you, you’re funny, kind, gentle, you opened up so much...and you sacrificed all of that...for my sake?”   
  
Nick smiles, she lets out an exasperated sigh, lifting her bloodied paws.

 

“Nick Wilde, you’re a moron.”   
  
Nick’s smile never wavers, even despite the clearly and all abundant pain he must be feeling, she wants to tell him to be quiet, to stop, and keep still, to not move a muscle. Does he even know how many muscles it takes to make that mocking smile of his? To act like such a….such a hero?  But he’s still smiling. And she’s still pushing, and it doesn’t seem like help with come.

 

“I know…” He says, and it’s clear from his smile that he does know, that he is a moron, and that she isn’t telling him anything new. But she still feels the need to push at him, even in his moment of weakness. Not out of cruelty, no, but because he needs to stay well. - He HAS to stay well, and if that means keeping him jeering at himself and at her, then so be it.

 

“Help will be here pretty soon, I already dialed it in, Nick, don’t die on me”  And she immediately blushes, because “don’t die on me” is such a stupid and cliché sentence, it’s like something out of a movie. The bunny cop who tries everything to save her partner.

  
“So...overused” - He manages to gasp, though his respiration is getting weaker, and Judy knows unless help arrives soon, like pretty darn soon, it’ll be a lost cause. Her paws are so deep in his scratches and cuts she imagines she’s touching muscle, but she doesn’t car,e not if she can save him.

 

“If you survive…” Police sirens are now hearable from a distance, as well as the unmistakable call of an ambulance. She amends her statement. 

 

“When you survive, I’ll take you for a Jumbo Pop.For old time’s sake?”   
  
She smiles, despite her tears, as the sound of a medical team rushing to them is heard. She can’t do anything more, but she managed to keep him alive. Even if he seems so weak, so much like prey his ancestors would have hunted.

 

He manages a nod. And then stronger hands replace her and he’s carried away, leaving her hoping, desperately hoping, that Jumbo Pop is to be shared.

**Author's Note:**

> For Pretty_Ok, which didn't want something as sad and melodramatic as the preview. But there's hope.


End file.
